


Sanctuary

by Pineprin137



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Commitment, Deaths--plural, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinations, Honor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love, M/M, Medication, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Soldier Jensen Ackles, Survivor Guilt, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Like the wings of a butterfly floating on a summer breeze, Jensen's reality used to drift in the stream of his consciousness. But then he found Jared.The man he loves. The home he needs. The sanctuary he's been searching for.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 4
Kudos: 174





	1. You're Dreaming, Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Where did this come from? I haven't the foggiest, my dear readers. But here it is, in all of its angsty glory. 
> 
> !CAUTION!   
> This fic contains references to PTSD, war, and suicide (it's a minor character and not described graphically, but it's still there). 
> 
> There is a happy ending, but it's a rough journey getting there. Because, hey, that's life.

_ Jensen hated being the new kid. He should be used to it, after moving almost once a year since he was five, but each time, he got nervous butterflies in his stomach.  _

_ The routine never changed, though the house did. They’d been in large four-bedroom behemoths, tiny apartments with no space to invite friends over, lived in military housing...in Hawaii, they even lived on the beach for a short time.  _

_ But regardless of which dwelling they were in or how many times they’d moved, Jensen’s mom always tried to start them off right on the first day at their new school.  _

_ She’d cook a huge breakfast, buy them new clothes, and allow them to watch one tv program before they  _

_ She looked over at Jensen where he was twirling a bite of french toast in a small puddle of syrup. “Jensen, honey, the bus will be here soon. You should hurry up and finish so you can brush your teeth before you go.”  _

_ Jensen shrugged. “I’m not really that hungry…”  _

_ She sighed, used to her middle son’s nervous stomach. “Alright, why don’t you go upstairs then-- I’ll clean up in here.”  _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ He pushed his chair back and stood, walking down the hallway that would soon be lined with various family photos and over to the stairs. He took a deep breath when he saw his eldest brother, Ryder coming down them.  _

_ Ryder was almost nineteen and in the last year he’d apparently decided that being a jerk was cool. Most days, Jensen tried to avoid him, but sometimes he had no choice but to swallow his fear.  _

_ “Well, well, well, look who we have here,” Ryder started.  _

_ Jensen tried to slip past him, but the older boy blocked his path. “C ‘mon, Ry, let me through.”  _

_ Ryder sneered at him. “Aw, is the baby’s tum-tum upset again?”  _

_ “Shut up.”  _

_ “Don’t tell me to shut up, shrimp.”  _

_ Ryder was goading him. He shouldn’t respond. Mom told him to ignore it. Dad told him to be the bigger man.  _

_ Misinterpreting Jensen’s silence as surrender, Ryder smirked. “That’s what I thought. You’re such a loser, Jenny.”  _

_ The nickname did it.  _

_ Narrowing his eyes, Jensen clenched his fists at his sides before tackling his brother. He hit the stairs with an “oompf!”.  _

_ “Get off!”  _

_ “I’m not a loser!” Jensen screamed, aiming a punch at Ryder’s nose. He hit the edge of the wooden step with his knuckles and cried out in pain as well as frustration.  _

_ Ryder cackled underneath him. “You even hit like a girl, Jenny!” _

_ “Shut up!”  _

_ “BOYS!”  _

_ Both boys immediately stilled at the sound of their mother’s voice. They scrambled to stand, fighting over the same step. Ryder won when he ‘accidentally’ tripped the smaller boy and sent him tumbling down the stairs.  _

_ “Oops.”  _

_ “Ryder Donovan! You apologize to your brother right now!”  _

_ Ryder rolled his eyes.  _

_ “Roll your eyes at me one more time and I will tan your hide-- Do you understand me?”  _

_ Ryder had the decency to look ashamed. “Yes, Ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.”  _

_ Donna stood with her hands on her hips, the dishcloth still clenched in her fist. She tapped her toes on the floor. “Now Jensen.”  _

_ “Sorry,” Ryder ground out between clenched teeth.  _

_ “Now then, get your backpack. Your sisters are already waiting at the bus stop.”  _

_ “Yes, Ma’am.”  _

_ Jensen smirked behind his big brother’s back as Ryder sullenly grab his stuff and headed outside.  _

_ “You better wipe that smirk right off of your face, Jensen Ross.”  _

_ Jensen wilted under his mother’s hard look. “Yes, Ma’am…” He ducked his head.  _

_ “The bus will be here any minute. Go brush your teeth and then, grab your things. I made up a doggie bag for you in case you get hungry.”  _

_ “Thanks, Mama.”  _

* * *

_ The bus ride was awkward, as expected, with Jensen forced to ride up front while his older siblings hung out with the other high schoolers in the back.  _

_ When they arrived at the high school, Jensen watched enviously as Ryder, Terra, and Celeste got off. Celeste was the only one to acknowledge him on her way out, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a little smile as she shuffled past in the line.  _

_ Middle schools were pretty generic, in Jensen’s opinion. There were always lots of hallways with motivational posters hung crooked, rows upon rows of metal lockers, teachers standing at their open doors, chatting as the students hurried between their classes.  _

_ He’d been to eight middle schools so far, thanks to his dad’s new promotion and they all looked the same.  _

_ Here, eighth-graders like Jensen were given the privilege of having top lockers, but it was October, so they’d already been assigned and Jensen had to have a bottom one. He didn’t mind too much, it was across from the boy’s bathroom and only a short distance from the cafeteria.  _

_ The guidance counselor who showed him around told him he could take as much time as he needed to get his locker set up before he headed to his first class.  _

_ The nerves kicked in as he stood in front of the closed door. Mr. Hanser- Geography.  _

_ Jensen swallowed, he wasn’t a huge fan of geography. Most teachers, once they knew he was a military brat, peppered him with a thousand questions. They’d ask him where he lived, which part of the country was his favorite, did he ever live outside of the U.S., what was the climate like there-- the list went on and on and Jensen hated every second.  _

_ He didn’t like being the center of attention.  _

_ Between Geography and Algebra, his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast so while he was walking, he pulled out the waffle his mom had packed up for him and ate it quickly. Only to regret it as soon as he sat down and pulled out his schedule to check what his next class was.  Gym .  _

  
  
  


_ Jensen managed three of the four required laps before he stopped to lean against the wall. The gym teacher, Mr. Mason-but-call-me-Matt jogged over to him.  _

_ “It’s Jensen, right?”  _

_ Jensen looked up at him, panting heavily. “Yes, sir, that’s right.”  _

_ “If you finished your laps, I need you to go wait with the others--” he pointed to the far wall, where a small group of kids sat laughing and poking fun at the slow runners, “-- or you can keep jogging, as long as you don’t get in the way.”  _

_ “I know. I uh, I’m not done, yet, sir. I still have one left.”  _

_ “Alright, well, if you aren’t done, then you need to keep at it. We can’t move on until everyone’s finished.”  _

_ “Yes, sir.”  _

_ His stomach was starting to feel kind of sick and he really wanted to rest for another minute or so, but it was his first day and he didn’t want to draw anymore attention to himself so he pushed off the wall.  _

_ He slipped back into the flow of the other students who were huffing and puffing as they tried to complete the task they’d been given but had to stop suddenly when his belly lurched sickly.  _

_ Jensen stood frozen in the middle of the gymnasium as he fought to calm his roiling stomach. He jumped, a hand flying to cover his mouth, when someone paused beside him.  _

_ It was a boy he’d seen in one of his earlier classes-- Chris, maybe? He had long brown hair which was currently secured in an elastic as he jogged in place beside Jensen.  _

_ “You okay, dude?”  _

_ Not wanting to embarrass himself on the first day at his new school, Jensen quickly shook his head.  _

_ The boy obviously hadn’t been expecting that answer because his eyes grew wide and he leaned around Jensen to shout for the teacher.  _

_ “Coach!”  _

_ Saliva flowed into Jensen’s mouth and he gagged, pressing the hand even tighter over his mouth.  _

_ The teacher had been jogging over, but when he saw Jensen, he yelled to the other boy. “Chris, why don’t you take him to the bathroom? I’m gonna call the nurse.”  _

_ “Alright,” Chris said before putting his arm around Jensen’s shoulders and guiding him toward the shower room.  _

_ Realizing what was going on, the other students began commenting loudly.  _

_ “Oh, gross! Is he gonna puke?”  _

_ “Look at him! I think he already did!”  _

_ “Jesus, that’s nasty.”  _

_ “Dude can’t run a few laps without tossing his cookies? Ha! What a wimp!”  _

_ Jensen tried to ignore the bullying, but by the time Chris led him over to the stalls in the bathroom attached to the shower room, tears were dripping down his face. He shrugged the other boy’s shoulder off before he walked into the stall and knelt down.  _

_ As if in Pavlovian response, his stomach contracted and he leaned forward to throw up. He didn’t have much in his belly thanks to the nerves that morning, so it was over pretty quickly, leaving him gasping for air.  _

_ Taking advantage of the locked stall, he curled up with his knees against his chest and dropped his head. He’d learned years ago how to cry quietly so none of his siblings would find out and make fun of him.  _

_ A knock on the door startled him.  _

_ “Uh, you okay in there? The coach wanted me to come check on you.”  _

_ Jensen sniffled and rubbed the back of his hand over his wet cheeks. “Yeah,” he said quietly, “I’m fine.” He sighed, “Do they wanna send me home?”  _

_ It wouldn’t be the first time, he thought wryly.  _

_ “Uh, well, Coach says you should go to the nurse to get checked out, but--”  _

_ “Okay. I’ll be out in a minute. Just need to clean up.”  _

_ “Yeah, okay. Sure thing, man.”  _

_ Jensen waited until the footsteps retreated then flushed the toilet and stood up. He peeked out of the stall door to make sure Chris was actually gone before hurrying over to the sinks. He rinsed his mouth a few times and managed to drink a little water then washed his face and headed back out.  _

  
  


_ “Does your head hurt at all?”  _

_ “No.”  _

_ “Do you feel chilly? Like you might be running a fever?”  _

_ “No.”  But you already knew that because you just shoved a thermometer under my tongue a few minutes ago… _

_ “Alright, lay back for me and lift your shirt.”  _

_ Jensen did as asked, letting out a small burp. “‘Scuse me,” he mumbled, blushing.  _

_ The nurse palpated the sides of his belly then over his belly button to just above his groin. He averted his eyes.  _

_ “Well, I don’t feel any rigidity, which is a good sign. And your temperature is only slightly elevated at ninety-nine, but you just came from Gym--Yes?” _

_ He nodded.  _

_ “That’s to be expected then.” She removed her latex gloves and tossed them into the trash bin before walking over to her desk and scribbling something down. “How are you feeling now? Still queasy?”  _

_ “No ma’am.” He sat back up and pulled his shirt down, fidgeting with the hem. “I’m usually okay once I get sick.”  _

_ He waited for her to look up, her brows creased, before he continued, “I get nervous sometimes and it makes me feel sick. I usually do okay if I can rest for a little while, but we had to run laps. It’s my first day here.”  _

_ “Ah, I see. Well, here’s the deal, Mr. Ackles. Since you threw up, your parents have to be notified, but for now, why don’t you try to finish the cup of water and then, I’ll sign a pass and let you go to class until they get here.”  _

_ “They’re at work.”  _

_ “Do you have their work numbers?”  _

_ “My dad’s on deployment for three more weeks and my mom works at the library.” _

_ “Alright, I’ll call your mother to come to get you.”  _

_ Jensen picked up the little paper cup with cool water and took a small sip. “...’kay.” _

_ When his mom arrived to pick him up, she gave him a hug and told him it was okay.  _

_ The drive home was quiet with Jensen sitting beside his mom in the highly coveted front passenger seat. Ryder and Celeste fought over it constantly.  _

_ “Hey, mom?” Jensen asked, turning his head away from the window.  _

_ “Yes?”  _

_ “Do you think I’ll ever be normal?”  _

_ Donna frowned. “Jensen, honey, you  are normal.”  _

_ “Ryder and Celeste don’t get sick when they’re nervous. And neither do Terra or Alex or Marina.”  _

_ “Jensen, it’s okay to get nervous. And before you start-- they  do get nervous, too. They just show it in different ways than you.”  _

_ Jensen slumped down in his seat and returned to staring out the window. “‘Kay.”  _


	2. Somebody Wake Me-- Please!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dream changed, like paint smearing as it swirled down the drain. His mother’s face melted into Louis, one of his brothers who hadn’t made it back from the desert along with the rest of their platoon. He was sitting next to Charlie and David, arguing over a game of cards. 
> 
> Jensen knew this mission. It had been his last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep breath, sweeties. This part is tough, but the next will be better. I promise.

_ “Where the fuck is Jensen? We need him over here to settle this!” David laughed and punched Lou in the shoulder.  _

_ “Where else?” Charlie replied, grinning with dirt-stained teeth. He jerked his chin towards the side of the building they were waiting near. “Yakking his guts.”  _

_ Jensen braced himself against the gritty stucco and leaned over, careful not to puke on his military-issue boots. Sarge definitely wouldn’t like that. He spat twice and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand then picked up his gun, slung it over his shoulder, and walked back over to the building he and Lana set up in.  _

_ Entering the dusty shack, he slumped in a chair and placed his head on the cool wood of the desk. God, he hated the desert… _

_ “Bad shrimp?” A feminine voice called from the other side of the table.  _

_ Jensen lifted his head to give Lana a weak smirk. “I wish.” He nodded to the laptop in front of her. “What’ve you got?”  _

_ She shrugged. “Not much. There’s not much traffic in this part of the village. Most of the civilians are too afraid to leave their homes and the big guns stick to the city limi...” Her face clouded over and she trailed off as something caught her eye.  _

_ Knowing she rarely missed the chance to tease him or show off her encyclopedic array of strategical know-how, Jensen stood up and hurried around to her side.  _

_ He swiveled the laptop to take a look at the screen. “Shit.”  _

_ He grabbed his gun and helmet, then jogged over to the door, calling back to her, “Call and tell the base we need immediate evac.” _

_ Turning the corner of the building, he bypassed the rest of the guys to go straight to Tommy. “We got incoming,” he panted, trying to buckle his helmet. “At least fifty boots on the ground.”  _

_ Tommy cursed. “You get a look at what they’re packing?”  _

_ Jensen shook his head. “We can’t get a clear line of sight. Too much debris in the air from last night. But they’ve got two big daddy heat signatures.”  _

_ “You call base?”  _

_ “Lana’s on it. Told ‘er to request immediate evac, but they won’t make it before they get to us. Tommy, there’s no way we’re making it out of here without help-- We're outnumbered and outgunned. Not to mention we're running low on ammo.”  _

_ A whistling sound drew their attention to the sky and Jensen quickly zeroed-in his scope to figure out what it was. His stomach plummeted to his feet and adrenaline began racing through his veins.  _

_ “MORTAR!”  _

_ Everyone fled the site, running for cover, but it was too close.  _

_ A loud blast shook the area.  _

_ Jensen was thrown headfirst through a flimsy door. His body slammed into the wall of the front room of the house, his not-quite-secured helmet spinning uselessly at the base of the stairs.  _

_ His ears ringing, he struggled to sit up.  _

_ Nausea washed over him as the room spun dizzily before he spotted the two people standing on the stairs. They looked scared to death; the woman cowering behind her husband, who held a gun close to his chest. The man shouted something at Jensen, but thanks to the grenade, he couldn’t hear shit. He spotted his gun out of the corner of his eye, but one look around the shambled home convinced him to try a calmer approach first.  _

_ Jensen gave what he hoped was a kind smile and went to gesture with his hands, but the panicked homeowner thought the soldier who’d literally broken into his home was going for his gun.  _

_ Closing his eyes, the man fired off three shots.  _


	3. Breathe With Me, Dammit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff to come. Oh! Fluff. I should probably add that to the tags... *Facepalm*

Jensen’s eyes flew open and he flung the covers off, gasping for air as the healed bullet wound that almost took his life throbbed with phantom pain. Trying to ground himself, he clenched the thin sheets in his fist and panted through his nose. 

Awakened by his bedmate’s frantic movements, Jared rolled over and reached his hand out.  However, instead of calming his panicked fiance, his touch did the opposite. 

Jensen screamed as Jared’s gentle fingertips sent white-hot agony through his body. From the scar in his leg up to the one in his chest and finally down his arm to his bicep. “FUCK!” 

Hearing Jensen's distressed cry, Jared immediately reached for the bottle of pills on the nightstand. Getting up on his knees, he forced Jensen’s mouth open and shoved one inside then covered Jensen's mouth with his hand while he grabbed the water bottle. Jared quickly tipped it into his mouth, praying he wouldn't fight it. 

Jensen coughed and sputtered, but he swallowed the medication. 

Shivering violently, with water dripping off of his chin, he scooted forward on the bed so Jared could crawl behind him. Once Jared was settled, Jensen laid back against his chest and allowed his fiance to pull the blanket over them as he wrapped Jared's arms around himself and cried for his fallen brothers. 


	4. All I Ask is That You Hold Me Close and Promise Not to Make Fun of Me When I Snore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared reflects. Jensen sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of lovely fluff in this last chapter! Plus naps, because naps are awesome.

In the morning, Jensen woke feeling like he was recovering from the flu. His entire body ached, his head was fuzzy, and he felt exhausted. 

Yawning, he went to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face then shuffled into the kitchen. 

Jared was sitting at the counter reading the paper when he walked in. He looked up and nodded to the coffee pot. “Coffee’s still fresh if you want some.”

The idea of putting anything in his stomach made Jensen feel queasy so he shook his head before taking a seat next to Jared. “Sorry I woke you up,” he mumbled, laying his head on his outstretched arm. 

Jared carded his fingers through Jensen’s hair. “I’m glad I did. It looked like a bad one.” 

“Mhm...” Jensen hummed, already half-asleep.

His fiance chuckled softly. “Jen, honey, why don’t you go back to bed?” 

“…’m good here...”

“Okay, well, as adorable as you look right now, I’d rather you sleep in our bed. Then, you might actually wake up feeling rested.” 

Jensen snorted softly. “Fine.” With great effort, he sat up and stretched, then stood with a yawn. He paused at the doorway, though. “You comin’?” 

Jared took in his heavy-lidded green eyes, sleep mussed hair, and tattooed dog tags and smiled. “Yeah, A nap sounds great.”

He followed Jensen down the hall but stopped in the bathroom for a quick pee before he walked into the bedroom. He’d only been a few minutes, but Jensen was already sprawled belly-down on the bed, his arm tucked under the pillow, snoring softly. 

Jared picked up Jensen’s discarded grey sweats from the floor and draped them over the end of the bed then stripped out of his jeans and slipped in beside him. 

He spent a few minutes just stroking Jensen’s hair, appreciating the peaceful moment. 

The medication Jensen took to manage his nightmares and phantom pain was a prescription-strength narcotic so he usually ended up sleeping most of the next day away. 

Jared had never asked what his nightmares were about, but he could guess it had to do with his fiance’s time spent in the Marines. From the little Jensen had shared about his former military life, Jared knew that he’d dealt with the technical side of things, but had field experience, too. 

The rest, Jared had heard on the news or read in the papers. It was a huge deal when Jensen and his superior officer had returned to the states after four months. 

The articles had hailed Jensen a hero, claiming he single-handedly saved Sergeant Thomas Rayburn’s life. He’d been awarded a medal of honor and been pictured shaking hands with the president. 

But Jensen didn’t see it that way. He’d just been doing his job. And by saving Tommy, he’d been unable to save the others. 

Survivor's guilt had weighed heavily on Jensen after he was honorably discharged and he still struggled with PTSD brought on by his final mission. His night terrors had improved greatly since he started going to see a therapist on a bimonthly basis and the pills helped with the psychological effects of his trauma. 

When Jensen and Jared first started dating, the former-soldier had still been having hallucinogenic episodes, but they’d lessened when they moved in together. The doctors had explained that the emotional stability and sanctuary Jensen felt in their relationship helped ground him, keep him in the present. 

Jared was just happy he no longer had to worry about Jensen pulling a gun on him thinking he was a terrorist or some shit. But Jensen's guilt was still an issue. 

Every year, Jensen spent one week traveling: from Carrollton, Georgia to Baton Rouge then over to Tuscon and up to Los Angeles. 

In each city, he visited the graves of his fallen comrades and shared a meal with their surviving relatives. After leaving L.A., he would then spend the final three days at a charming bed and breakfast in Fallon, Nevada. The B-and-B was owned by Thomas Rayburn Sr and his wife, Evelyn.

Tommy’s death had been the hardest on Jensen. They’d been together in the field for four years, spent four months in medical facilities trying to recover from the explosion, and then, numerous hours in physical therapy and psychological evaluations. 

He was the only one who'd understood exactly what Jensen was going through. 

But Tommy had blamed himself for the faulty intel, the comms that went down right before the grenade hit, not getting everyone out safely-- He'd felt as though he failed his team. 

When Tommy’s mother called Jensen to tell him the news of her son’s unexpected and heart-wrenching passing, Jensen had been distraught. He’d stopped taking his pills, showering, eating. All he did was sleep and cry and scream out in the middle of the night. 

When Jensen’s depression had started to affect Jared as well, he'd had no choice but to hospitalize his traumatized boyfriend and pray for his recovery. 

Jensen had been a patient at the St. Anne Psychiatric Facility for almost eight months, but Jared never gave up. He visited as often as he could, smuggled in Jensen's favorite snacks, and read to him on the days when he refused to get out of bed. 

It was tough sometimes, to be patient and understanding when all he wanted to do was tell Jensen to take the damn pill so they could get in the car and go already, but Jared loved him. Loved him so much he almost cried when Jensen asked him to come with him on his annual homage shortly after he was declared mentally fit and able to go home. 

The trip had been haunting, beautiful, yet sad as they visited the graves. He'd been allowed to see a different side of Jensen, watching as he cried tears for each of his comrades and listened while their family members recounted their favorite memories. 

They’d been sitting in the rental car after visiting Tommy's grave, Jensen red-eyed and shaky, running a hand down his face to wipe away tears and snot and spit and Jared had never been more in love. He’d proposed in that car, with Jensen looking a complete mess, his heart bared for only Jared to see. 

Now, sleeping peacefully in their bed, Jensen looks nothing like he did then. His figure is fuller, more muscled, he keeps a neatly-trimmed beard, and instead of his actual dog tags, he has the tattoo which matches the one on Jared's wrist. But Jared’s heart still skips a beat whenever Jensen smiles or comes back sweaty from a run, or burns the bacon because the man  _ cannot _ cook. Every time the ring on Jensen's finger catches the light and reminds him he said yes...

Jared still wants it all. Every part. Every piece. The good, the bad, the horrific, and the traumatized-- because it’s all Jensen.  It’s all the man he loves. 

Once a soldier, now, his sanctuary. 


End file.
